Annie picked up the bag and unbuckled the front flap. The packets of hundred-dollar bills inside looked, felt, and smelled real. She closed the bag and hefted it up and down several times.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jeremy asked.
“I don’t have to count it,” she said. “A ten-thousand-dollar stack of hundreds weighs about the same as a Big Mac. This feels like you got my order right.” She put the bag down on the floor.
Jeremy grinned. “At first I made you for one batshit old broad, but it turns out you’re as smart as you are nasty.”
“Well, aren’t you the sweet talker,” Annie said. “Maybe when this is all over, the two of us can be Facebook friends.”
Jeremy took a jeweler’s loupe out of his pocket. “I showed you mine. Your turn to show me yours.”
Annie removed a small black LeSportsac makeup bag from her purse and slid it across the table. Jeremy opened a menu, slipped the bag between the pages, removed the necklace, and studied it with the loupe.
Had anyone bothered to look, he was just another farsighted customer squinting at the menu, trying to decide.
Annie took a deep breath. For the first time since Teddy called her on Tuesday night, she felt a sense of relief. She still didn’t know what to do about Teddy, but the bag at her feet would buy her a lot of options. A hint of a satisfied smile crossed her face, and she took a sip of her soda to cover it up.
And then — bang!
Annie jumped. Jeremy had slammed the table with the base of his fist.
Heads turned. Jeremy didn’t care. His teeth were gritted, his jaw was locked tight, and his eyes were aflame. “You conniving bitch,” he said, spitting out every word. He stuffed the necklace back in the makeup bag and shoved it at her.
Annie tried to process what was going on. “I don’t understand. What’s the prob—”
Jeremy didn’t stick around to explain. He scooped up the bag of hundred-dollar bills, pushed back his chair, and bolted for the door. Tow Truck Bob stood up and was about to go after him, but Annie held up her hand.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said, shoving the makeup bag into her purse.
Ten minutes later, they were crossing the Williamsburg Bridge.
“You okay?” Bob finally said.
Annie lowered her eyelids. It was the first question the strong, silent marine had asked since she’d recruited him, and based on what had just happened, it was a pretty stupid question at that. But Bob wasn’t stupid. He was a kindhearted man doing his best to tiptoe around her feelings, and the last thing he deserved was one of her trademark wiseass answers.
“No, I’m not okay,” she said, opening her eyes as the Jeep merged onto the ramp to the BQE. “Thanks for asking.”
“It’s none of my business,” Bob said, “but what the hell happened?”
“I don’t know. I’m still shell-shocked.”
“Sorry,” Bob said, “but that’s the thing with these business deals. Sometimes they can just go south.”
Con jobs could go south, Annie knew. Hell, if the mark caught on, a scam could explode in your face. It didn’t happen to her and Buddy often, but when it did, they didn’t ask why. They just packed up and ran like hell.
But this was a legitimate business deal. Okay, maybe not legitimate, but it was a straight-up agreement between her and Jeremy. It was about to go down when something spooked him. But what?
She clutched the Katz’s Deli takeout bag that was sitting on her lap and closed her eyes again. On top of everything, she’d have to explain to Teddy why all she’d come home with was a pastrami sandwich and a cream soda. He’d ask why she didn’t bring back the money.
She didn’t have an answer. Maybe Buddy would know.
Chapter 48
Jeremy could barely swallow. His breathing was labored, and he hugged his chest, trying to ease the rib-crushing pain. He’d had anxiety attacks before, but this one was the mother of them all.
He sat up straight in the back of the cab, rested his palms on his knees, and took long, slow, deep breaths. Five minutes into the ride, the wave of panic passed.
You’re okay, he told himself. It’s only a temporary setback. Relax and think about what to do next.
The first option that popped into his head was to do exactly what he had told Leo he wouldn’t do: take the hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars and run away with it.
He shook off the thought. After all he’d been through, he wasn’t going to settle for chump change. He’d have to come up with a new plan, but he couldn’t do it alone. “Shit,” he said out loud. “I guess the relationship isn’t quite over.”
The taxi dropped him in front of the Flatiron Building, on Fifth Avenue at 23rd Street. It was a short walk to the Bassett brothers’ minimansion on 21st, but he knew better than to show up unannounced.
There was a pocket seating area on the wide traffic island that separated Fifth from Broadway. Jeremy bought a bottle of water from a pushcart vendor, found an empty table, and sipped slowly. The water went down easy. He could swallow. He could breathe. He could do this.
He took out his cell and sent a text.
It did not go well. Can I come over?
The response came back immediately.
No!!! Brother here. talk later.
Jeremy fumed. Later? He drank the rest of the water and texted back.
Pick a place NOW or I’m banging on your front door.
It took two minutes for the answer to come back.
Trailer Park Lounge 271 West 23. Five minutes.
“Stupid rich asshole,” Jeremy said to the text.
It took ten minutes to walk west to the Trailer Park Lounge. He’d never heard of it, but as soon as he walked through the door, he knew why it was the perfect spot to meet. It was the kind of intentionally tacky dive that Leo Bassett wouldn’t be caught dead in.
Max Bassett, on the other hand, looked right at home. He was at a table in the rear, wearing jeans, a faded plaid shirt, and a ratty old baseball cap with a logo that simply said HAT. There were two bottles of beer in front of him.
“What do you mean ‘It did not go well’?” Max said, picking up one beer and pushing the other in Jeremy’s direction. “I thought Leo gave you the cash. What did the old lady do? Hold you up for more?”
“No,” Jeremy said. “She was drooling over the money. But the necklace she was peddling was a fake. So I pulled the plug and walked out on her.”
Max’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You... you had the necklace in your hand, and you gave it back?”
“You’re damn right I did. Max, it wasn’t worth a hundred and seventy-five grand, let alone eight million. I thought—”
“Since when do I pay you to think? You were given specific instructions: ‘Buy the necklace from the old lady.’”
“Max, I know enough about gems to be able to tell what real emeralds and diamonds look like. I took a good look at the necklace with a loupe. Annie Ryder was trying to sell me a fake — a total piece of shit.”
“You know nothing about gems. What you were looking at was a perfectly crafted replica using cultured crystals instead of real stones. And it’s far from a piece of shit. It may not be expensive, but it’s still an original Max Bassett.”
Jeremy tried to make sense of what Max had said, but the vise was starting to tighten around his chest again, and most of his brain was preoccupied with warding off the pain.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “Why would you dress Elena Travers up in a fake necklace?”